 One of the very best. The speakers of Hallmark Reading Cards bring you Dorothy McGuire in Helen McInnes' Rest and Be Thankful on the Hallmark Playhouse. Hallmark brings you Hollywood's greatest, chosen by one of the world's best known authors. The distinguished novelist, Mr. James Hilton. Ladies and gentlemen, this is James Hilton. Tonight on our Hallmark Playhouse, we present a dramatization of a story as winsome as its title. A story called Rest and Be Thankful by Helen McInnes. I suppose there isn't one of us who at some time or other hasn't dreamed of a place where he might find refuge from the cares of the world. Some haven of peace where one might live simply, yet richly. But the heroine of our story tonight actually found it in Wyoming. And if you've ever been to Wyoming, you won't be surprised. To play a delightful part, we have chosen a delightful actress, Dorothy McGuire. And now a word about Hallmark Cards from Frank Goss before we begin the first act of Rest and Be Thankful. May we remind you once again that for every occasion important to your friends and loved ones, there are Hallmark Cards to carry your thoughts across the miles, across the years, or merely across the way. A Hallmark Cards says what you want to say, just the way you want to say it. And that identifying Hallmark on the back says that you cared enough to send the very best. And now Hallmark Playhouse presenting Helen McInnes's Rest and Be Thankful, starring Dorothy McGuire. Many of us look too far afield for that secret valley or for that lovely island in a distant sea where all will be peace and gentleness. Perhaps it's round the next turn of the road. If we search for it, perhaps it's right here in America. Let's follow two women traveling across the United States in a shiny aristocratic foreign automobile. Their eyes are on the road and they hardly glance at the painted mountains around them. Bill, I'm afraid I have bad news. I'm lost. Now, how on earth did you do that, Sally? Well, I turned off onto this road on the map. It looked like a shortcut. Now, I don't know where we are. No idea at all. Well, I know we're in Wyoming beyond that. Well, Sally, you are hired as a companion. I guess I can't expect you to be an expert navigator as well. There's one consolation. I don't think we have to worry about Indians or bears. The Indian wars are over and the bears spend their summers in Yellowstone Park getting their pictures taken. Oh, now it's going to storm. This road will be a river of mud and we'll be stranded here. Now, please don't blame the United States for storms, Mrs. Peel. It rains on the Riviera too. Yes, my dear. But on the Riviera, you can go inside if the places are civilized. You know, I rather like the west. It's nothing like a western movie. Well, not so far at any rate. Now, please don't look to prayer. Look, those brown animals bouncing over that piece of hillside. Why, they must be antelopes. There you are. We've got antelopes playing, skies that are not cloudy all day. Now, all we need is to sell them to scouraging workers. Oh, and that lightning in Europe never points its finger at you in that dreadful fashion. It's more genteel. Oh, we'll get out, Mrs. Peel. We'll get out of this. I'll find a way. We're in a big old house right in the middle of it. It's just a perfect setting. Setting for fire. The valkyries. Maybe your western movies are more accurate than you thought. William S. Art to the rescue. You in trouble there? Yes. I'm afraid we're lost in the car. Well, the storm lights up out in the morning. Well, we must have some place to spend the night. Could we stay in that big old house up ahead? What house? What's around the bend with a verandah all around it and a cupel on top? Well, surely the owner won't mind if we stay there for one night. Thank you, Mr. Jim Brandt. This is Mrs. Peel and I'm Sally Bly. Well, welcome to rest and be thankful. What? That's the name of the place. Come on, Mrs. Peel. We'll make a dash for it. I was just having the loveliest dream. I dreamt we were in a dreadful storm, and then all of a sudden we were on a green island, and you could hear the ripple of a stream, like a lullaby. It's no dream. It's true. Oh, the house is so white and cool and restful. Get up and look outside. We're high in the hills of Wyoming. And this house is built on a tiny island, just big enough for a house, really, at the fork of a creek. That's a ranch just over the footbridge, isn't it? Mm-hmm. Flying tail ranch. That's where Mr. Brent stays and works. The friendly-looking mountain is called Flashing Smile, and the rushing stream at our front door is Crazy Creek. And this tiny island and this lovely house are known as rest and be thankful. Say that all again. It sounds like Stephen Vincent Benet. I wonder why Mr. Brent didn't want us to stay here. Why, the house has been empty in dark so many years. It is very strange, isn't it, Sally? Oh, I feel so peaceful. It must be wicked to feel as peaceful as this. Well, I'm not sure what it is, Mrs. Pio. Maybe it's the stream. It talks to you. And everything, the trees, the wind, seem to murmur the name of this place. Rest and be thankful. You were kind enough to take us in for just one night, you said, and here we've stayed for a whole week. That's all right, ma'am. It's kind of good to see a few lights in this house again. Mr. Brent, how would you like to sell this place? Oh, Mrs. Pio. I don't know, ma'am. See, this is a special kind of house, almost like a person. It's a house where you were happy. Maybe so, ma'am. That was a long time ago. It's a large house. A man living here alone feel like he's living in Pennsylvania Station. It's where I've been sleeping over at the bunkhouse with the rest of their anglers. How do you know about Pennsylvania Station out in New York? I'm just a country cowhand, Miss Boy. What would you reckon to do with this house if I was to sell it to you? Well, Mr. Brent, I'm sort of a literary godmother. For years I've gathered writers about me helping them and encouraging them. And now I'd like to make this a writer's haven. A writer's heaven. Writers, huh? I must admit I need the money, but it's expensive property, ma'am. Oh, expensive. Land, house, and furniture, 30,000. Sold. It comes awful fast, ma'am. Let me think about it. All right, Mr. Brent. Meanwhile, I'm going to dispatch a telegram to New York to Prenda Atherton-Jones, the critic, asking his advice and help in rounding up some writers. Oh, why, Mrs. Peel? You're talking Western style already. Imagine rounding up writers. Now get checked to take your telegraph message into Sweetwater. Goodbye for now. Isn't it strange, Mrs. Peel? Most of us gather about no New York, California, and the safe between is all a great unknown. I'm so glad we decided to drive across. I'm even glad we got lost. Oh, who knows, Sally? Maybe we got found. And imagine. What are you staring at, dear? Well, I can't help wondering about Jim Brent. He's such a puzzle, such a mystery. I don't think he's always been a rancher in Wyoming. He's keeping something deep inside him. Something about this house. About his life before he came here. He never laughs, have you noted? He's a warm, friendly sort of person who should laugh sometimes. But it never gets beyond a kind of faraway smile. It's something about this house. Yes. As if he knew this house. And the house knew him. Like two old old friends. And they shared a secret together. Jones, never deserts an old friend. My dear Margaret, you seem stuck out here in the wild of Wyoming. Naturally, I'd become post-haste to rescue you. Well, I'm not sure we want to be rescued, friend. Besides, we've already bought the place. You poor dear. Don't you love mountains, Mr. Jones? In a word, no. A mountain to me is merely a pile of granite to remind a man how insignificant he is. My dear, I'm not too much of an egotist to be snubbed by a mountain. Mrs. Peer, would you excuse me? It's a lovely night out. I want to get a breath of air. I shouldn't wonder. Anybody would be stifled in this primitive background. Where you running to, lady? Oh, it's you, Mr. Brandt. Jim, nobody calls anybody Mr. around here. Thank you. My name is Sally. I know. Tell me aren't you afraid? Walking out by yourself in the dark? Back in the old days, my grandmother used to hold a gun even when she opened the door in the dark. No, I'm not afraid. Listen, who's that singing? Chuck. One of the Rangers. Tune it up in the bunkhouse. It's lovely. And you keep a very beautiful sky in Wyoming. You miss it when you go away. I guess cities shut out the sky. You don't like cities, Jim? Certain people belong in the city. Like plants that like to grow in a special place. Do you think one of those city plants can dig up its roots and spout all over again? Out here? Depends. I think this place, this Green Island, has a kind of magic about it. I'm a little partial to this spot myself. Starlight, mountaintops. Got kind of a hold in this to it. Sometimes feel I'm standing in Nature's Cathedral. What a lovely way of putting it. I'm not one who holds that the wide open spaces contain all the goodness. A big bad city has a monopoly on the wickedness. It's... Well, I suppose it's the people. Yeah, the people. Gotta get moving. We're up at dawn. The sun tips its hat at us, and we all like to be up to give ours back. Good night. Night, ma'am. Miss Sally? Something I want to tell you about the West. Out here, you've got to listen very closely to all the things that aren't said. Just as much as you listen to the words that are spoken. I'll remember that. Have a nice walk, Sally. Oh, yes, Mrs. Peele. Where's Mr. Prender, Abbot, and Joan? He said he had about as much of nature as he could take in one day, so he's gone on up to bed. Sally, let me look at you. My goodness, you have Wyoming written all over your face. I've never seen you look so happy. I am happy. It's more than just this play. It's the people. And it's something you hear if you listen very closely. In the wind, in the stream, in a song. Mrs. Peele, a dreadful thing is happening to me. I think I'm in love. To rest and be thankful, starring Dorothy McGuire. It happens to us all very frequently. Perhaps today it happened to you. You saw a smile, a manner, a walk that reminded you of a long ago friend. You thought a moment and reflected to yourself, I wonder how things are going with him. But the thought passed as so often they do because you had no time to write. And besides you didn't really want to say as much as you would in a letter, you were just thinking about him. There's an easy way to give that thought expression you know. You can give it wings and body and send your friend a greeting across the miles by means of a hallmark friendship card. At the fine store where you buy hallmark cards, you'll find one that says, hello, how are things with you? Or there's another that says, hi, I'd surely like to see you. There are any number of different things you can say by means of a hallmark card. In fact, you'll find one that says what you want to say, just the way you want to say it. So why not follow those kind impulses and show your friends you thought of them? And remember, when that familiar hallmark is on the back of the card you send, you're also showing your friend you cared enough to send the very best. Now back to James Hilton and the second act of Helen McGinnis's Rest and Be Thankful starring Dorothy McGuire. An eagle soars over flashing smile mountain. It circles slowly, turning in a wide curve, traveling surely with pinions and seemingly motionless. Then suddenly a coat of air lifts its wings and sweeps up into the vast stretch of blue. As you watch it, your heart lifts also. A sense of peace settles over you. The pine forests are bands of rich velvet and the mountain peaks carved by wind and torrents are giant cathedrals. Two women have come to this spot to rest and be thankful. Mrs. Margaret Peale and Miss Sally Gly and a strange thing has happened to both of them. Sally. Yes, Miss Peale. I looked into the mirror this morning and I didn't recognize myself. Oh, you're growing younger. Yes, I think I am. I've thrown away my sleeping tablets and I've even stopped worrying about my worries. I think the state of Wyoming does something to women. Do you know that women got the vote here in 1869? No. In London and New York we were still chaining ourselves to policemen as late as 1919. Tell me, how is your romance? Oh, it's not really a romance. Jim and I walked together just at sunset quietly listening to the sounds of our hearts. No words spoken. Now, just an affection for this house, this land, this peacefulness. Do you know, in all these weeks I've never heard Jim say an unjust or petty thing about another human being. There's no malice, no cynicism in his heart. There's a warmth in him that makes you warm, like the glow of a fire. You know, I think he's a poet. And if you want to be a godmother to a writer, why don't you make Jim Brentzite, make him put down on paper his feeling for all the wonder and beauty and... If you want to sponsor and help a group of writers, here they are, the true artist of love. Oh, yes, Brenda. Well, there's Karna Lovebrook, who writes those charming, populous, pointless short stories. There's Robert O'Farlane, who does a complete novel without a single trace punctuation. Very daring of unguard. Nobody understands the word of it, but a sheer delight. Then there's Wolfgang Ruben, who's writing an exposé of conditions in the South African mines and hasn't washed for a year. He feels he gets more in the mood that way. All geniuses, my dear. Go back to New York, Brenda. What? You don't belong in Wyoming. You belong in a nightclub or at a cocktail party, along with the smoke and the idle chatter. Well, I never. What's happened to you, Margaret? You don't mean to say you've been sinking mentally down to the side saddle set? Maybe I've been enchanted, bewitched. I don't know exactly. And maybe I'm about to discover a Wyoming poet. Yes, and good riddance. Oh, I don't mean, Brenda. I mean Jim. Oh, where's he gone? Well, I don't know exactly. He told me he was going up into the hills to think and just rode off. That was last night. I'm worried about him. You mustn't worry about your cowboy. Well, Chuck rode down this morning and brought me a letter from Jim. Oh, what does he say? Is he all right? Well, I'm afraid to open it. I'm afraid he's going to say, go away. Stop bothering me. You're disturbing my memories. You're cluttering up my life. I just know that's what he's going to say. Oh, Sally, you're not acting like Wyoming at all. You're slipping back into that old pattern of worry and fret. Go on now. Open it up. Read it. All right. Dear Sally, I've come up here to the top of one of the highest mountains in Wyoming where the air is soft and clear and sweet. I call this my thinking mountain. At night, you think of all the others who've sat just as you have around a dying fire in the wilderness. You lie back to sleep, but you don't sleep. Here you're in the middle of nature, but what you think about is human beings. You see things so clearly as you lie out here, listening to the mountains and the night sky. Then the dawn comes up and you see nothing but pink clouds below you. You look down at those clouds and they're not the way you see them from Earth. They're a floor of gold and purple of colors you don't even know the names of. You begin thinking about the way the Greeks made their gods live high in the mountains and you feel you could leap right forward into those clouds. You could fall 10,000 feet and not get hurt. No, you're a man again. Gods don't have to think about getting hurt. Oh, go on, Sallie. And having been hurt yourself, you know that you must never ever hurt anyone else. I was married once, Sallie, and I brought her to rest and be thankful. And she was unhappy here. She didn't belong. She wanted to be in New York and on the stage. And so we closed up the house and it seemed wrong to see the windows dark and the house empty. I tried to make a go of it in New York. Some plants can only grow where their loves, where their roots are. So I came back here without a wife, without love, with nothing but emptiness, Sallie. The house has been dark ever since until fate or perhaps God brought you to my house. I don't think I can read any more, Mrs. Peele. Oh, Sallie. How wise we think we are and how very little we rarely know. Here at the end, he says, he says he loves me and it's made him happy to know that we love his house. I have to start playing this when the first star rose over flash and smiled. Twilight's no good in Wyoming, that little cowboy music. Let an old lady intrude on the Twilight for just a moment. Of course. Don't talk that way. You're the youngest old lady I know. Thank you, dear. I want to ask you two to do me a big favor. Will you take care of rest and be thankful? Why? Where are you going, ma'am? Well, I'm going to take that fancy foreign car and as soon as I reach town, I'm going to trade it in for a jeep. And then I'm going exploring. I want to have a look at Oklahoma in the flesh, not on the stage. And I want to see what it's like inside Montana and Utah and Oregon. Oh, I'm a young'un. I'm a maverick and I've got to roll. This is a big country, a beautiful country that needs exploring with our eyes and with our hearts. And you knew that Sallie and I were planning on getting married. Well, nobody ever told me. But I heard it. Wyoming whispered it to me. Welcome to a house that'll never be dark again. Turn on all the lights. What? I want to see every light in this wonderful house shining bright. All right. I've never known. Never before. You notice how you sometimes put off or forget to do the things you ordinarily do, such as seeing your friends as often as you'd like, remembering your sister's birthday, or complimenting your young nephew who has just been promoted to a corporal. Undoubtedly, the present days are a busy time for all of us, but we can still keep in touch and do those thoughtful acts that endear us to friends and loved ones. It's easy to do if you get in the habit of stopping in at the fine store where you buy hallmark cards. It takes just a few minutes to find the hallmark card that best expresses your thoughts, that says what you want to say, the way you want to say it. And there's a hallmark card for every occasion. And when you've signed your name and dropped the card in the mailbox, you have that glowing satisfaction that comes when you know you're helping to make someone else happier. Giving a heart a lift, it's a grand feeling. And to that feeling when the card you send is a hallmark card, add the pleasure of knowing you cared enough to send the very best. Here again is James Hilton. Thank you, Dolton McGuire. You gave us your usual excellent performance and we're very grateful. Thank you, Mr. Hilton. I enjoyed playing Sally and living for a while in that home with a wonderful name. It certainly is a wonderful name for a house, isn't it? I can imagine how it appealed to you after your own recent traveling. And by the way, it was good of you to cut short your New York trip to be on hallmark playhouse with us tonight, Dorothy. Well, I wouldn't have missed it for the world, Mr. Hilton. You know, I'm very fond of you folks on hallmark playhouse and hallmark cards. Well, we're old friends. So I wouldn't feel the season complete without an invitation to visit you. Well, speaking for all of us here and the makers of hallmark cards, we feel exactly the same about you. Now, I'd like to say something about the hallmark program for next week. Oh, yes. What's it going to be? Next week, we shall be proud indeed to dramatize a story by one of America's best writers, Francis Parkinson-Keyes. And the story of hers we're doing is one that is currently high on the list of national bestsellers. Its title is Joy Street. It's a story of real people and their real-life problems. And for our star, we shall be equally proud to present Miss Irene Dunn. Our hallmark playhouse is every Thursday. Our director producer is Bill Gay. Our music is conducted by Lynn Murray. And our story tonight was dramatized by Lawrence and Lee. Until next Thursday then, this is James Wilson saying, Good night. Carefully selected to give you expert and friendly service. Remember a hallmark card when you carry enough to send the very best. The role of Margaret Peele tonight was played by Eleanor Audley, Lamont Johnson was Jim Brent, and Ted Osburn was Brindler, Atherton Jones. This is Frank Boss saying good night to you all until next week at this same time when hallmark playhouse returns to present Irene Dunn in Francis Parkinson Kyle's Joy Street. And in the weeks to come, Richard Henry Dana's classic two years before the mass. And for Mother's Day, Gladys Hastie Carroll's A Man's Mother on the hallmark playhouse. Be Kansas City, Missouri.